Dope Sick
by Doesn'tMeanMuch
Summary: AlexJay Jaycentric One shot:  This was what he'd made himself, and he had only himself to blame.


I got a sudden bout of inspiration. This one wrote itself. I hope you enjoy. I own nothing.

Check out my other fics while you're at it. _Trying_, and _Begin to Hope_. Keep your eyes peeled for more stuff too, because I've got a few others in the works.

XXXXXX

History always repeats itself.

That was the only thing he'd ever been sure of in his life. His dark life was going to come full circle, because that's what life does. It's just a god damned run around until you die.

He looked at his bruised knuckles in disgust. With the smell of whiskey on his breath, and the tracks running up the insides of his arms, he should have seen it all coming. He looked like his father, and he felt like a monster. This wasn't him.

It wasn't who he used to be at least.

Then again, who was he kidding? The rest of the world knew all along what he would amount to. He leaned his weight onto the bathroom sink in front of him, and looked into the mirror, trying to see if he was still in there somewhere.

He looked sick. The man in the mirror was skinny as fuck, and probably hadn't showered in a few weeks. That man in the mirror's teeth were rotting out his skull. That man in the mirror had lost all his hair. That man was dying.

He shook his head, and snapped from his hallucination. He was losing it. He'd been on the straight and narrow for two days, and his eyes were playing tricks on him.

He didn't want to be that man in the mirror, but he could see that he was already looking older than his twenty-two years of age. His eyes were sunken, and his face gaunt. He hadn't eaten in days, but that was only his fault too. He'd been the one who got caught doing heroin at work. He'd been the one who'd gotten fired. It was a good job, with decent pay, and he'd managed to fuck that up too.

The pink notice he'd torn off the door an hour or so ago sat crumpled by his feet. She'd yelled at him. She told reminded him about the cash she gave him. That cash that was supposed to pay their rent, but he used it on another fix.

He'd screamed back. She wasn't any angel either. She'd fucked up her fair share, but all the things he'd said were in the distant past. He knew she'd been trying to fix herself, and make up for all the things she'd broken. Then, he lost it, and he turned into a monster that he couldn't believe.

If there was any kind of drug in this house, you can bet he'd be using it now. All he wanted was to take away this pain, anger, and immense guilt. He wanted to forget it all. But, drugs cost money, and he didn't have much. Besides, his dealer was dried up right now. Plus, deep inside somewhere, he knew it wouldn't help. He knew that the drugs were the whole god damned problem.

He kept staring at that face in the mirror though. The man he used to be started emerging in his eyes. There was still some good in there. He felt it. Now he had to show her that he wasn't the asshole who just broke her down. He was still the good man who could love her right.

So he stood to redeem himself. He felt taller, and more assured, like he finally shook that god damned monkey off his back. He opened the bathroom door, and stepped out into the bedroom. She hadn't moved from the bed.

She was still in that half dazed, crumpled mess she'd been in as their argument ended. Her face buried in the solace of a dirty pillow. He looked at her closer than he had in a long time.

She looked skinny as hell too. Her bones showed too much. The black of her hair was not as radiant as it had been. It looked tired, like the rest of her.

She worked too hard, what with double shifts at the restaurant ever since he'd lost his job. Once she got home, she was always picking up after his mess. She'd always stuck by him though. She'd had that kind of love for him. Today he'd crossed a new line though. He'd done the unforgivable.

"Lexi," he sighed softly. Her name always had rolled off his tongue. She didn't move. He sat onto the bed, and reached to touch her shoulder.

The second their skin made contact, she recoiled and sat up. He winced and his eyes shifted down to avoid the glare he knew she was throwing him. He'd deserved it, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. When looked up, he cringed even harder.

Her left eye was purple and painfully swollen, and it devastated him to know that his hands caused it to look that way.

"Lexi I- " He started, but she didn't let him finish.

"Fuck you Jay. Fuck you to hell," she spat. Her voice wasn't as strong as it usually was. It shook too much. That hurt him more than anything else that night. She stood expectantly, waiting for him to say something, anything. He chewed his lip, trying to think, and felt his stomach bottom out as he started speaking again. The words tumbled from his mouth.

"Lexi, I never want to do that again. I never want to hurt you again. I am so sorry, and I never want to do anything that makes me angry enough to hurt you again, but I don't even know how I got this way," his chest was heaving as he finally took a breath. She crossed her arms, and gave him a stare of disbelief.

"You don't know? It's those fucking drugs Jay! It's the fucking drugs you're wasting all our money on and snorting up your nose," she threw her arms out in frustration. He shook his head, even though he knew she was right.

"I don't do that anymore," he sighed. That at least was true. He hadn't been on anything for two days. That's what was making him so dope sick and edgy.

"Since when?" She scoffed. His eyes narrowed in frustration.

"I've been clean for two days Alex, I'm never doing that shit again. I don't want to be like this anymore," He gestured down at his thin frame. The dirty, baggy pants he wore hung off of him, staying on only by a tightly cinched ratty belt.

"You better fucking promise that Jay. You promise me right now that you will never do it again, and I won't walk out the god damn door right now," she said, her voice a fierce whisper. Those brown eyes looked so full of hurt, that he never wanted to make her feel like this again.

"I promise you Lexi. I promise, because I love you," he said lowly. She sighed, her eyes still attached to his, and he saw tears welling. She wiped at her eyes, annoyed at the emotion. She let out a sharp hiss when she touched the tender skin.

"Fuck Jay, this doesn't fix everything," she sighed. "We still have to come up with the money or we'll get evicted." He stepped up close to her, and ran his thumb down the side of her cheek.

"Hey," he whispered, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. "Lexi honey, I'll fix it, ok? Right now, I'll go make it right." His lanky arms wrapped around her, and he rocked side to side, holding her.

"Go handle it then," she sighed, now recomposed. He smiled at her as he collected a jacket from the dresser.

"I'll be right back Lexi," He beamed. "I love you baby." She gave him a small smile, and he knew he would be able to build himself back up. She still loved him, and that made him ecstatic.

He jogged down the stairs, fully energized that he was able to salvage his relationship with the best girl in the world. He kept right on jogging once he hit the outside, breathing in the cold air, and not even noticing how it burned his lungs. He was going to go talk to a buddy who he knew would have the cash, and throw all the favors in the book at him until he could get enough money for rent. Then first thing tomorrow morning, he was going to get himself a job, and payback every penny with honest work.

Then, he was going to be the perfect boyfriend to his girl, because she deserved it. He was going to take her out, and flaunt her like the beauty she was.

His cell phone rang in the pocket of his jacket, and it ripped away from his little daydream.

"'Lo?" He answered, not bothering to check the number beforehand.

"Hey Jay, the well is no longer dry, if you catch my drift," the man laughed. "I got something for you."

Jay cringed. It was his dealer, Tommy. He hadn't had anything for the last few days, and that was partly the reason Jay had been sober.

"Not now man," Jay said. He was apprehensive about speaking to the man at all. He had to make things right.

"You sure? Man, I've got what you like, and it'll be cheaper than dirt for you, since I made you wait so long," Tommy said. Jay felt his pulse start amping up, and he fingered his wallet in his pocket. He had twenty six dollars in there, all made from less than legal ways.

A little bit wouldn't kill him, maybe just a little bit of meth would do. Meth was cheap. This would be the last time, then he'd be done: like a kiss off to his old life.

"Yeah, how much…" He trailed off, thinking of Alex. "You know what no, I.."

His mind was torn. He wanted it, but he didn't. He needed it, but then he knew he didn't need anything. Every thought was an argument to the one before it. She'd never know, but what if he did something again. Tommy sounded impatient.

"What is it man, yes or no?"

In his short life, Jay knew only one thing for sure, and that's that his life goes full-circle. It's like some twisted kind of merry go round, and just when he thinks he's caught a break, he does something stupid, like that night, went he spent the rest of his money, and got strung out enough that he didn't get any money for the rent.

He went home, and lied to Alex, and felt like complete shit as he slept with his arms around her. He let her dream that everything was going to start being ok. That's what he wished he could do for her, but he just wasn't strong enough.

Because history always repeats itself.


End file.
